


Un Endroit Plus Doux

by monbae



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Lots of kissing, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monbae/pseuds/monbae
Summary: Fragments of the time when Juyeon found Jacob and fell helplessly in love with him.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Lee Juyeon
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Un Endroit Plus Doux

**Author's Note:**

> a huge thank you to [amélie](https://twitter.com/woobrioche) for the french translations and to [britt](https://twitter.com/jumilsbish) for beta reading this for me!!
> 
> title: _A Sweeter Place_

It’s about to start raining, clouds towering dark and heavy above the city as he searches for a nearby cafe to take shelter before the sky falls. There’s still a soft yellow glow that kisses the horizon, but the rest is falling into grey, and it’s almost black over his head.

Ever since he moved to France for that year-long exchange program, the sudden summer showers and the cold autumn rains have become a part of Juyeon’s everyday life. But this morning when he woke up late for his course, in the rush between a cold shower and a quick breakfast, he forgot the umbrella on the coat hanger right behind the door. Now he wonders if he locked the door properly. 

Loud thunder jolts him out of his thoughts and he resumes looking around the street to find the direction from where the tale-telling sound of a chime came a few seconds ago. It’s not hard to find it, the sound hitting his ears gently again exactly when his eyes catch the warm light of a small coffee shop shining through its big glass walls. The flushed marigold glow is pulling him closer, and Juyeon can already feel the heat collecting under his skin as he takes quick strides towards the shop. 

The bells chime once again as he enters, closing the door behind himself just as lightning strikes over skies, and the rain starts to fall immediately, cobblestones getting darker by the second. 

It’s overwhelmingly warm inside, heat enveloping him, soaking through his frozen fingers, and settling in the solid depth of his bones while melting the rigid tension across his shoulders, and the dull ache in his ankles lessens. Juyeon sighs contentedly, pushing his hair back as he looks around the small and cozy place, filling his lungs with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, the subtle scent of rum, and still warm baked goods. 

It’s almost empty inside, and he has the sudden urge to turn around and just leave because being alone in closed public spaces has always made him feel uneasy, but then he catches the quick movement of an outstretched arm in the corner of his eyes, a small airy laugh hitting his ears and his panic fades into smokes. 

“ ** _Un expresso et un croissant, s’il vous plaît,_ ** ( _An espresso and a croissant, please_ )” he asks in that broken French of his as he steps to the counter and his heart does a small somersault when the girl behind it gives him a small encouraging smile as she takes his order. 

_“ **Quelque chose d’autre ?** _ ( _Anything else?_ ) _”_ her words flow with that sweet melody Juyeon has always liked to listen to, but his heart beats too loud and too fast in his rib cage for him to form words - all he can do is shake his head with indication, dangly earring brushing softly against his jaw. 

He looks around the tiny space while waiting, taking in the minimalist design of the place, its high ceilings and hanging lamps, the water glasses on the shelf above their heads, and the washed-out blue denim jacket over the back of a stool which faces the street. The person sitting on it has a mop of light brown hair, a set of wide shoulders stretching the thin material of his white t-shirt and Juyeon can decipher the dark silhouette of a tattoo across his back, but before he can look at it more intently, the sharp sound of a coffee cup against the marble top makes him look back at the girl. 

“ ** _Merci beaucoup,_ ** ( _Thank you_ )” he smiles, looking at her from under his lashes as he carefully takes the tray. She nods before leaving him alone, and Juyeon unconsciously turns his steps towards the empty window seat and doesn’t realize it until it’s too late because the stranger catches him from the corner of his eyes, turning his head fully towards him, smile bright and warm.

Blood floods his face, hands starting to feel clammy as he keeps staring at the dazzling smile, lips turning upwards unknowingly - at least that’s what Juyeon feels at the slight stretch of muscles. 

“Do you want to sit down?” he asks, already pulling his backpack from the seat next to him, and putting it down on the ground. Juyeon gets taken aback by the soft timbre of his voice, freezing to the spot with the tray between his hands, unable to help those small sparks inside his stomach going off, building their way up into his chest as his heart fastens its pace again. 

Juyeon shakes himself out of his daze before putting down his tray on the tabletop, pulling the stool out, and sitting down. 

_“ **Je suis désolé. Je ne voulais pas** \- _ ( _I’m sorry. I just-_ ) _”_ he wants to say that he approached him unintentionally, that he really doesn’t know why he didn’t turn the other way the moment he became aware of himself, but his small vocabulary is failing him greatly and he feels his face heating up more, and suddenly his coat is too warm around his body, turtleneck slowly suffocating him. 

“Hey. It’s okay.”

The other puts his hand on Juyeon’s shoulder, fingers resting over the jut of his collarbone as he looks at him with a curious but tender stare in his eyes, and when Juyeon finally looks at him properly, at the defined features of his face, it drowns on him that he understands the words spoken to him. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“It’s perfectly fine. Don’t stress about it.”

Juyeon smiles reassuringly at him, pulling his coat off, dropping it idly over the table as he turns towards him, extending his hand, hoping the stranger will ignore the slight shake of it.

“I’m Juyeon, nice to meet you,” he says, warmth slipping through his cold fingers as the other shakes his hand. 

“Jacob.”

That is how Juyeon finds the love of his life on a rainy autumn afternoon, between soft chuckles and subtle glances, bright smiles, and tender touches. 

⚬

Turns out Jacob is studying music production at the same university Juyeon learns about architecture. Neither of them mentioned it the first time they’ve talked, so it takes them both by surprise when they meet a second time in the small garden behind the dormitory building, Juyeon’s hands cold and dirty with charcoal while Jacob holds a stack of heavy-looking books in his hand.

But Jacob doesn’t have time to chat because the girl he is with calls after him to hurry up, her voice almost apologetic. 

“Call me when you’re free, let’s get coffee some time,” is what Jacob tells him before hurrying to catch up with her. He says _some time_ _,_ and it oddly feels like he’s giving a way out for Juyeon from whatever gentle rhythm they have settled themselves in. But Juyeon can still clearly recall how the other had looked at him before they parted ways on that rainy afternoon. And he definitely doesn’t want to let this tenderness between them pale, so when he’s back in the warmth of his room, and his hands are finally clean and smell of faded jasmine, he texts Jacob back.

**[15:23] JUYEON:** let’s meet tomorrow after classes, i will wait for you

The next day they go for coffee and the first time Juyeon hears him speak French, it leaves his knees trembling, dark peonies blooming on the high of his cheekbones when Jacob smiles at him knowingly. He is aware of the effect he has on Juyeon and seems almost amused by it. When his hand brushes against the small of Juyeon’s back to push him in the direction of an empty table, he thinks this must be how it feels like being too close to the sun. It burns, spreading all over until it overheats his whole body before settling in the depth of his chest. 

If Jacob notices how many times he fumbles for words, he doesn’t mention it, just smiles at him brighter until Juyeon bites off his sentence and hides his blush against the cool touch of his fingers. 

“Don’t hide it from me,” he says and tugs Juyeon’s hand away from his face. “You’re so pretty when you are like this.” And if they hold hands while their coffees get cold, well, that cannot be helped anymore. 

On their second coffee date, Juyeon manages to not stumble over his words when he tells the older how much he adores the brown flecks in the light blue of his irises and the pale marks of freckles around his eyes. The spark in Jacob’s eyes shines just as bright as the smile gracing his lips.

He hooks a foot around Juyeon’s ankle under the table, almost making it feel like a soundless plea to make him stay by his side longer. And Juyeon has to laugh when realizing - with a funny feeling bouncing inside his chest - that this cannot be helped either. 

⚬

It seems like even fate wants them together when the first snowstorm of the year forces them to take shelter in the far corner of the library, hunched over sketches and with endless music sheets scattered all over the surface of the table. 

And it’s not like they can’t take that five-minute walk back to the dormitory, but Juyeon doesn’t know where the boundaries of their relationship lay and he feels like one wrong move would ruin everything. Still, he can’t stop wondering. 

His graphite pencil slides over the arc of a vault again and again, until he feels his hand producing a soft noise as it shifts against the paper. Juyeon looks up from his drawing, meeting Jacob’s eyes in the middle and his lips form the words before he can properly think them. 

“Do you want to come over?”

The smile melts the sharp curve of Jacob’s lips and Juyeon becomes breathless at the sight even though he has seen it a couple of times before. Their hands brush while they hurriedly collect the notes around the table and Jacob intently thumbs over Juyeon’s knuckles before pushing the stack of papers into his bag. 

The dormitory rooms aren’t that big, barely enough for a bed, a desk and a wardrobe, and some free space so people don’t hit their knees or hips every time they turn in a different direction. But the bed is big enough for the both of them, sitting with their backs against the cream-white walls, thighs touching. 

“I cannot even imagine how people live comfortably in such a small place like this,” he looks around curiously, eyes settling over the white azalea blooming tirelessly on the window sill.

“Well, not everyone has a rich aunt who can afford several apartments across the world.” Jacob huffs a laugh and leans closer to tuck a stray inky lock behind Juyeon’s ear, before letting his hand fall on his thigh.

“Next time, I’m taking you back to mine,” he says, and to indicate how much he wants it to become true - at least that’s what Juyeon wants to think - he intertwines their hands and thumbs over his knuckles, warmth spreading fast through Juyeon’s fingers. 

It still burns to be this close to the sun but at this point, it becomes a constant feeling of belonging to someone and he doesn’t want to let it go. By the way Jacob holds onto his hand tighter, he knows the other doesn’t want it to end either. 

⚬

Jacob’s apartment is probably, if not for sure, at least six times bigger than Juyeon’s dormitory room, with dark hardwood floors, bright white walls, and tall windows facing south to let the place swim in sunlight. Several paintings of Monet’s Water Lilies across the place and a grand piano pushed into the far edge of the living room, music sheets spread haphazardly on and around it. 

What takes him by surprise is Jacob’s five-months-old beagle puppy, as it jumps around him playfully until Juyeon has to bend down to pet it. The puppy pushes its head further into Juyeon’s hand and he doesn’t catch the stare with which the older looks at him, though he feels a kind of sweet balance settling between them - now even more. 

“Come here, Honey.”

Juyeon blushes mad at the endearing pet name, and doesn’t even question the choice of words until he notices the puppy running towards Jacob, and his blush deepens even more, watching the sweet moment between them as the other crouches down to pet her. 

He tries to mask his embarrassment while turning his head to the side, but Jacob’s harsh laugh makes him hide behind his hands when he catches the other looking at him with something in his eyes that cannot be called anything but fondness. 

“You are so cute, Yeon-ah. Don’t hide your face from me, you know I adore it when you blush.”

And of course Juyeon hides further into his palms, until his ears fill with Jacob’s giggle and the sharp barks of his puppy. 

They order takeout because they are twenty-something-year-old kids who cannot be bothered with more and settle on the living room sofa.

While they wait, Juyeon takes out his sketchbook with the intention to start the project they need to hand in by the end of the week, but in the middle of drawing the long line of a pillar, he looks up at Jacob and the way a pale streak of sunlight dances over his features Juyeon feels the sudden urge to turn a page and draw him. And so he does. 

He wishes to have some color pencils or at least a highlighter to accentuate shadows and fine lines, and he desperately tries to word the colors flashing over the other’s face, but they seem to fail him greatly. Jacob notices his struggle because the next time he looks up he tilts his head gently to the side. 

“There’s a camera in my bedroom if you want to take pictures.”

Juyeon doesn’t hesitate to take it, sitting back on the sofa to take all the pictures he needs.

The first ones are just a few basic shots, with Jacob still immersed in his book, pale sunlight dancing over sharp features. Then the knowing smile reappears in the corner of his lips and blooms into a full one as the sound of shutter fills the space. The moment he looks into the camera is when Juyeon’s hands start to shake, blood flooding his face and it suddenly becomes too hot in the room. His stare is heavy, challenging even, and Jacob waits only until Juyeon puts down the device before he lunges at him, crashing their lips together. 

He is not the gentle lover Juyeon imagined him to be, but he’s everything else he has ever wanted. 

He can still feel the kiss hours after he left Jacob’s place, nail-marks carved into the soft flesh of his hips, and he traces them gently with the tip of his fingers, dancing over dips and red crescents. If they burn through the next day, he doesn’t mind it. 

The next time they meet in the campus cafe, Jacob gives him a small and slightly thick light-brown envelope with the same knowing smile Juyeon still cannot get used to. 

“Your pictures. **_Ou devrais-je dire les miennes ?"_**

_Or should I say_ _mine_?

The way Juyeon drags him into the shades of two buildings to kiss him breathless is just as desperate as Jacob’s hold around him, hands on his thin waist, pulling Juyeon even closer than he already is. This time, when the older calls him pretty again, instead of hiding behind his hands, Juyeon kisses him harder, biting into his bottom lip for the sake of leaving a reminder of himself. 

Hours later, Jacob sends him a picture of his lips, bruised to crimson, with the caption: _now you won’t leave my mind even for a second._ In the solitude of his room, Juyeon screams into the softness of his pillow, fingers twisting violently into the bedsheets when even with his eyes closed he can see those plump lips pulling with a cheeky grin. 

Jacob calls him minutes later, voice already low with something Juyeon doesn’t want to think about.

“Every time I try to speak my lips tingle and I can’t stop thinking about you. **_Comment vas-tu prendre la responsabilité pour ça, chéri ?_** ( _How are you going to take responsibility for this, darling_?)” It’s so cruel of Jacob to tease him like this when he knows that Juyeon adores listening to him - and now he cannot do anything else but suffer in silence on the other end of the line while the older literally purrs with every word that leaves his mouth. “Cat got your tongue? **_Réponds moi, mon amour._** **”**

_Answer me, beautiful_.

Juyeon ends the call without thinking, tossing his phone away before he burrows his face further into the pillow, the soft touch of the material cool against his burning skin. But it doesn’t take long for his phone to chime with a new notification and he just knows that it’s from him. 

This time it’s a voice message, only a couple of seconds long, but it’s perfectly enough to make him throw his sanity out on the window.

“ ** _J’espère que tu vas rêver de moi, chaton._** "

_I hope you dream of me, kitten._

And Juyeon does dream of him - of his sun-kissed skin, of his long legs tangled into ivory sheets and his blood-red lips biting love into his body. 

⚬

They are on an ordinary study date in the library when Juyeon is finally brave enough to slip the carefully folded piece of paper across the table, right under Jacob’s notes. The drawing will never give back the real beauty nor will the photo which inspired it, but Juyeon doesn’t worry because he has the luck to look at Jacob at any given moment of the day, to admire him and wonder what his future life would look like if their souls would intertwine and stay together. 

He doesn’t have the power of telling his heart to stop beating so loud in his chest when he knows oh-so-well that what they could have is just a fragment of a daydream that could never become true. Not when Juyeon has to go back when the summer starts, leaving everything behind like the helpless romantic he is - but he will take the photos, the memories of Jacob’s hands in his and the shape of his lips against his cheek. He will take the secretly recorded on-the-spot-improvised piano pieces, the love letters which still smell like rain and salt, and the black cat keyring the other bought for him. 

He wants to take more, but leaving them here seems less painful than holding into.

Hours later when he takes his sketchbook out of his bag his fingers brush against a shape unfamiliar to him. Somehow, Jacob managed to slip a poetry book inside his bag without having Juyeon notice it. 

As he opens it, the pages dance under the mellow light of the lamp, his eyes on the piece of paper stuck in the middle of them. He gently unfolds it and looks at the black ink notes scattered all over the paper in the pattern of a tender rhythm. His heartbeat glows in the depth of his chest when he reads the words left in the corner of the paper. 

_I want to play it for you the next time you come over_

Juyeon takes his coat, pushes the paper into his pocket and he’s gone with the loud ring of his keys echoing in the hallway of the dormitory. On his way down the stairs, he calls a cab because he has no time to waste and because his time spent in this city is getting shorter by the minute, he doesn’t mind the embarrassment he would usually feel when asking for things in a language that tells so much more than he could ever do. 

His phone rings when the car stops at the red light, Jacob’s name flashing brightly on the screen, and Juyeon is unsure for a minute if he should accept it, but the continuous ringing makes the driver turn in his seat to look at him with a raised eyebrow and it’s enough for him to answer it. 

Jacob speaks first, right before Juyeon has the chance to greet him. 

“Where are you?” he asks and sounds out of breath like he has been running until this very moment. Juyeon looks around, and it’s completely useless because he hasn’t been living in this city for enough time to remember street names - until he realizes that recalling the names of the streets is not the important thing here. “Juyeon?”

“Why?” seems the only plausible question to ask. 

Jacob huffs a laugh like he usually does when he is annoyed or tired and something twists violently inside Juyeon’s chest. He almost tells the driver that he wants out but Jacob sighs on the other end of the line and no matter how bad he wants to end the call, he holds his breath back and waits. “I want to see you. Where are you right now?”

“On my way to your apartment. Why?” again, but this time it sounds more genuine.

“ ** _Putain_** **,** because I’ve been knocking on your door for a while now with no sign of you letting me in. I will be back in fifteen, wait for me.”

Juyeon waits patiently for the elevator, fingers curling gently around the piece of paper in his pocket. 

The ride up is short and the hallway is barely lit to see anything but the outline of the stairs, so he sits carefully on the first step and waits again. He tries to form his words, to sew them together so he won’t waver when he needs to tell Jacob that he - 

That he what? What does he want to tell him? 

He realizes only now that he doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know why he is sitting on the cold surface of the stairs, waiting for someone to whom he has something to say - but he doesn’t know what to say. 

The sound of approaching footsteps hit his ears and before he knows it Jacob is standing in front of him, bending down as he rests his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. 

“We are so helpless,” he says between two gulps of air, before smiling at Juyeon. “How could we think about the same thing while making the same mistake too?”

Juyeon is pretty sure that if he kisses Jacob right now, the other won’t push him away. So he stands up and takes those two or three steps towards the older before cupping his face between his hands, thumb smoothing over lilac patches that sleepless nights left on his skin. It’s dark but he can see the pale color of his eyes and feels the heat slipping through his cold fingers. 

“Can I kiss you?”

When Jacob nods, Juyeon kisses him too desperately, making them stumble, hands searching for something to hold on to. 

The written melody is long forgotten inside the pocket of his coat when Jacob kisses him back with the same enthusiasm, hands on his hips as he pushes Juyeon against the door, tongue slipping between over-bitten red lips while stealing his breath away.

Later on when the bedsheets are pleasantly cool against his overheated, damp skin and when Jacob kisses delicately along his spine, Juyeon remembers his letter. 

“Will you play it for me?”

Jacob stills for a second, but in the next one Juyeon can feel the ghost of his smile pressed into the flesh before he pushes himself into a sitting position, hands securely on Juyeon’s waist. 

“ ** _Tout pour toi."_ **

_Anything for you._

They dress up, Juyeon borrowing Jacob’s shirt, waiting for him to button his jeans before intertwining their fingers and letting the older lead him to the piano. He sits down next to Jacob, with his body facing the opposite direction, letting his head rest on the other’s shoulder. He closes his eyes and lets the melody wash over him.

There is nothing grandiose about it, but it’s exactly what he expected it to sound like. No smashing of keys, no thundering highs and no sorrowful lows. It does not echo in the depth of his bones and it does not choke him to tears. Instead, it settles tenderly across his heart and twirls it around playfully until he becomes dizzy, until he feels drunk enough that he has to hold onto Jacob’s arm for support. 

It’s the sweetest love confession someone has ever told him. And the only way he can show how grateful he is, is by kissing along the expanse of Jacob’s shoulder while the other chuckles and replays the melody again and again. Juyeon wants to melt into him, wants to make himself at home inside his rib cage right next to his heart and never part from him.

⚬

Juyeon spends the majority of his time in the city, taking photos with Jacob’s camera, collecting small items like pretty postcards, silver coins, and coffee samples, sketching buildings and people, befriending the stray cat that waits for him on the stairs of his building every morning when he comes back from his run. 

He takes long walks with Jacob on the nights they are both free or makes himself cozy under a huge pile of blankets on the plush sofa situated in the middle of Jacob’s living room, and reads or draws while listening as the other plays on the piano, hurriedly writing down notes in the rush of finishing projects before the deadline. 

He goes to all of his classes, chats in that broken French of his with the girls who call him **_le petit ami de Jacob Bae_** ( _the boyfriend of Jacob Bae_ ) - because obviously, he has fallen for that one person who everyone wants, but only some can have. And he stays long hours in the library to finish his projects way before they are due just to spend more time with the other. 

He even declines a couple of facetime calls with his mother because he doesn’t want to interrupt the short time they can still spend together. 

“You shouldn’t cancel on her,” is what Jacob tells him the third time it happens, but Juyeon just pushes his face deeper into the crook of his neck, filling his lungs with the fading scent of vanilla and ignores the words. “I am not going anywhere -”

“Yet. But neither is she, so let me enjoy this while I can.”

Jacob sighs as a sign of understatement and resumes threading his fingers through Juyeon’s hair. He hopes that they don’t have to talk about it ever, and even if they have to, Juyeon hopes they won’t. Or maybe they will, but he prays that when the time comes it will be too late to change something. 

⚬

It’s two days before Christmas and Juyeon has absolutely no idea what gift to buy for the other. He looks absentmindedly over shop windows as they walk across the city on their usual afternoon strolls with their hands intertwined inside Juyeon’s coat pocket, but nothing catches his attention and as they slowly approach the building of the dormitory, his chest fills with worry and uneasiness. 

Jacob pulls him to a stop right on the last corner before they arrive, eyes searching for signs Juyeon desperately wants to hide. He knows he has failed miserably when the other tucks a stray lock behind his ear, cupping his face gently, smile pale on his lips and eyes just a little bit sad. 

“Is there something bothering you, my love?”

Juyeon finds no reason to lie, after all he has already been caught. 

“I don’t know what kind of present I should get you,” he whispers, and the embarrassment of not knowing his lover well enough to choose the perfect gift is burning bright on his cheeks, making him turn his face away from. 

“I don’t want anything.”

He laughs and Juyeon bites back the sarcastic remark of ‘who would have thought’ that has been on the tip of his tongue, and turns back to look at Jacob with his lips pulled in a pout. 

“I really don’t, and to be honest, I don’t intend to buy one for you either. I would be happier if we could spend the day together making memories rather than stressing about what artificial things to buy for each other. Besides, **_si je t’ai toi, je n’ai besoin de rien ni personne d’autre."_ **

_If I have you I don’t need anything or anyone else._

Juyeon doesn’t understand his words but the way his voice dropped he knows that it’s something about him and that’s enough to make him blush even more. 

“You’re always so flustered and I can’t help but find you more and more endearing each time. I should be used to it by now, but you become prettier every single time I take a glance at you and I find myself questioning if you are even real.”

Juyeon drags him close by the collar of his coat, lips almost touching as they pull with a playful smile. 

“Shut up,” he chuckles before kissing him, letting Jacob pull him closer by the hold he has around his waist. And it shouldn’t erupt sparks in his stomach but kissing him always feels like the first time and Juyeon can’t get enough of it. How warm and soft his lips are against the cold, chapped touch of his own. How slow and soft is the rhythm with which he elicits every small sound from the depth of Juyeon’s chest. It drives him mad and he can’t even complain because it’s the only thing that keeps him sane at the same time. 

It keeps him grounded. Gives him purpose and makes him shine like he never did. 

Jacob tells him between two kisses that they cannot meet the next day because his aunt is visiting and no matter how strong he feels about their relationship - Juyeon detests himself for trying to find a deeper meaning behind Jacob’s words - he doesn’t want them to meet. 

_“_ She’s an extremely _unpleasant_ person. _”_

And it shouldn’t hurt, but Juyeon feels like those words are more of an excuse than the truth. 

_“_ **_C’est une raison pour m’éviter ?_ ** _(_ _Is that a reason to avoid me?)”_ he asks, oddly confident in his words and even Jacob takes a step back to look at him with a dull glint in his eyes Juyeon doesn’t want to name. The smile on Jacob’s lips is drained of color and it doesn’t reach his ears.

“She’s a bitch, my darling,” is what the other tells him, “and doesn’t like pretty boys like yourself. She wouldn’t like you even more because of the reason that you are more than just a pretty boy.”

His fear sinks lower in his stomach but it doesn’t disappear completely. Juyeon shakes his head and turns his stare to the side again. 

“I cannot get inside your head, my love, but I can guarantee that whatever you think the reason behind my decision is, it is clearly wrong. Okay?” he asks, stepping closer and Juyeon aches when he doesn’t not let himself sink into the touch around his waist. “I’ll see you later, love.”

He leans in, leaves a tender kiss on Juyeon’s forehead and with a light squeeze on his side he leaves. Juyeon watches him until he disappears around the corner while holding back his tears from falling. 

It’s cruel how hard it is for him to fall asleep that night with Jacob’s last words still ringing clearly in his ears. 

Juyeon spends the whole day in bed, listening on repeat to the recording of the piano piece Jacob composed for him. He wants to cry, he wants to call the other and beg him to not leave but his insecurities take over and he holds everything back.

They were so good until now, why did he have to go and make it all worse? 

It’s almost midnight when someone knocks determined on his door but Juyeon doesn’t find the power to stand up and let them in. If he stays still maybe they will leave eventually. 

“Baby?”

Jacob’s voice is low on the other side of the closed door and Juyeon gets dizzy by how fast he stands up to open it. He gets taken aback by the sight before him. 

“What happened to you?”

“I talked back and she didn’t like it.”

On Jacob’s face there’s a light but clear imprint of a hand and a thin dark red line under his eyes. Juyeon thumbs at the scratch, but in the corner of his eyes he catches how the other’s hand clenched into a fist, never pushing his face further into Juyeon’s hand. 

“And did she want to claw your eyes out?”

“Probably, I don’t know,” he laughs it off before looking at him and realizing it doesn’t sound as funny as it seemed to. “She has this really gorgeous diamond ring.”

“What did you tell her?”

And it’s not like Juyeon knows Jacob’s aunt so well to know what is worth getting slapped for. 

**_“_ ** **_Que je préfère passer ma journée avec mon joli garçon plutôt qu’avec elle."_ **

_That I would rather spend the day with my pretty boy than her._

Juyeon gets the hint of a comparison and the word ‘pretty’ and it’s almost like they are the missing half of an entire soul when he pulls Jacob inside the room while the other asks him the same thing. 

“Can I spend the night here?”

There’s something indescribably fragile how fast the tears flood his eyes when Jacob finally hugs him. But it’s there and he feels eternally grateful for it. 

⚬

Christmas comes and goes in a blur.

They grab breakfast at the bakery down the street and talk about how they usually celebrate the holidays with their families; then they take the long walk back to Jacob’s apartment, skipping lunch and indulging themselves in the dark chocolate mousse cake they bought on their way. 

And if the kisses they exchange between bites are more bitter than usual, then they just smile into them to make it sweeter. 

They nap together on the living room sofa with Jacob between Juyeon’s arms, his face pushed into the crook of his neck. There’s a pretty glow of coral that the afternoon sun hides them behind and when Jacob unconsciously kisses his neck, Juyeon holds back the tears that threaten to fall.

It’s the sun that’s going to take the other away from him. With every rise and every fall over the horizon it reminds him that their time together is running out and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Because in his entire existence he is too small to change anything. Because **_—_ **

**_—_ **the Sun sets and rises. The Earth spins without a stop. Hearts get broken with the promise of healing. People forget by the time they wish to remember. 

Juyeon holds him closer, tighter. Engraves the touch into his muscles so that he can remember it when his fingers cannot reach for him anymore.

If later Jacob notices the dried tear streaks on his face he doesn’t point it out, just kisses him harder. 

Evening finds them between champagne glasses and the repetition of Juyeon’s favorite piano pieces, between Jacob twirling him around his living room and eating takeout while sitting on the top of the kitchen counter. 

The night leaves them both breathless as they cling to each other, purples blooming on whites and hearts beating and bleeding under touch. Jacob’s name are the only syllables on Juyeon’s lips until they fall asleep, tangled together under the bedsheets. 

That night the world shifts under the blind gaze of stars. It is most probably what people call fate. Or maybe that’s just life. 

⚬

The fairytale ends just as the clock strikes midnight and as the fireworks erupt in the black skies of the new year, Juyeon stares at their intertwined hands like he just simply cannot understand what is happening. 

Jacob holds onto the boy Juyeon has never seen him with, smiling like he used to smile at him with that tender gaze in his eyes. He kisses him like it’s the most natural thing to do and when he looks up in Juyeon’s direction his expression doesn’t change. He probably doesn’t even see him in the crowd of people waiting on the other side of the street for the light to turn green. 

And when the light turns, he can’t move. His legs root into the cold concrete as he watches the pair get close then pass him by, just like the other strangers beside them do. It’s like one of those shots where everything beside the main focus is blurred, colors running wild across the picture. 

He feels the sudden urge to run, to get away from whatever this is, to get away from whatever they are.

He steps down but _it’s too late._ The light has already turned red. 

The last thing he sees is the bright flash of light before he sits up on the bed, shirt clinging to his skin as his chest rises and falls rapidly with every intake of air he takes. He’s starving to breathe again, but his ribs claw into the flesh and it makes him scream, throat dry, tears spilling. He looks down at his trembling hands and tears into the thin material of the blanket thrown over his body. 

**_C’est le même rêve, encore et encore._ **

_It’s the same dream, over and over again._

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/soluvlly) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sangjuist)


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